


My golden age was when I thought I would always have you.

by soulhead



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Twitch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulhead/pseuds/soulhead
Summary: Carlos and Lando used to be competitive sim racers and streamers, one could never be seen on twitch without the other.This year, though, isn't the same. Actually, nothing has been the same since Carlos got recruited as a sim driver by McLaren and moved out of their small apartment. Now, Lando spends most of his day feeling like he was left behind.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

Monaco is a circuit Lando hates to race on. Every turn is too sharp, too narrow to use his car's true potential and it's mostly just a game of bumper cars against the rest of the grid. To make matter worst, as he sits in his car on the starting line, small droplets of rain have started to fall. Great ! Just what he needed, he mumbles out-loud as the lights go out and the qualification session starts. Surprisingly, he come off the first sector almost unscathed and he's just out of turn 7 when his engineer tells him to keep the same pace and that his chrono is looking good. His grips on his steering wheel tightens at the announcement. He can do it ! What's a little rain on the track after all, if not more fu-

_**«A network error has occurred. Please restart the game.»** _

« WHAT ?» Lando screams at the message on his screen before hitting his forehead on his desk.

«Lando ? You're not finishing the race ?» Max's voice resonates through their call on discord.

«NO ! This fucking game crashed !» he whines into his microphone «This is like the 3rd time this week already....»

«Mate, you keep saying that every time you have a bad start...Just admit you ragequit it !»

«Ah ah Max, I was leading the qualification session !»

«Weeeell, that's the thing, not anymore !» Max declares in a victorious tone as Lando laughs, unimpressed with his joke «Alright, sending you a new invite, we're starting the qualification over !»

«Thanks god...I swear if this game crashes one more time in the middle of a race I'll smash my screen..»

«Oooooh scary !»

«Anyway,» he says as he diverts his attention from the loading screen to his twitch page «thanks for subscribing to my channel Yumeios, Bigberry11, Nadeoy, Ecartmaa- How do you say it ? Ecartmaneruos ? Thanks for subscribing balkn, Tom8D !»

He quickly finishes to read the ever-growing list of his new subscribers before he's once again able to join the server. He's instantly met with the overlapping voices of his opponents, some welcoming him back enthusiastically, some with a hint of annoyment over his frequent disconnection issues transpiring through their voices. Embarrassed and a bit upset about it himself, he profusely apologies to them before their race starts.

This time, he finishes the qualification without problem, and in the 6th place. His chat floods him with message of encouragements and too many PogChamp emotes to keep track of.

«Alright, chat ! This is it ! We're sixth, we can do it ! So you better send me all your positives vibes, your prayers and whatever because I'll need it !» he declares in a overtly dramatic way to his viewers to hype them up as he waits for the real race to start, feeling his own heartbeat rises progressively.

«Ready to die on track, Lando ?» Max taunts him, reminding him he's still connected on a call on Discord with him.

«SHUT UP Max ! I won't fall for your mind games !» he declares with a mischievous smile before muting Max's voice «I'm sorry chat, no more Max for you either, we can't afford this troublemaker here.»

After reading a few messages from his subscribers, the sound effect signaling the beginning of the race starts to resonate in his headphones. Once again, he manages to make a good start and he overtakes two cars in turn 9 of the first lap. Still, he sees in his rear-view mirror four other cars on his tail and he knows he can't release the tension coursing through his body.

A few missteps along the way and an almost destroyed frontwing later force him to box earlier than intended. As his car enters the pit-lane and starts being driven automatically, he shifts his gaze to the screen of his chat, rapidly scanning through the latest messages.

«Ah, this is too much pressure on me guys ! I'm sorry if I don't interact with you, my heart is beating at a hundred miles per hour... »

Once his pit-stop completed, he's back into the circuit. He's so focused on his race, his entire body tense and concentrated sorely on the track ahead of his car that he's almost surprised when he realizes he's on turn 7 of the final lap and ranked way higher than what he expected.

«Guys ! GUYS I'M GOING TO FINISH P2 !!!How is that possible ? Was there a crash somewhere ? I thought Tonizza was in front of me and I was like P3 or 4 !» Lando starts rambling excitingly seconds before he reaches the finish line and he lets out a victorious scream that will surely turn half of his viewers deaf.

Once everyone is finished with the race, all the contestants join back their common discord server and debrief the results. Although, judging by the amount of bickering and good-humored jabs that everyone throws at each other, «debriefing» isn't the most accurate word to describe their banter.

Lando joins in delightfully, still carrying with him the euphoria of making it into the podium against other world-renowned e-sports racers. Between the on-going discussions with his opponents, his chat and subscription notifications, he has no time to rest, but his own cheeks are starting to hurt due to the smile fixated on his face and he can't find it in himself to complain. It's been quite a while he hasn't been able to feel this carefree while streaming.

Too soon though, the contestants of the race start fiddling out of the event. Yet, a small group of them decides to call for a smaller, more chilled rematch of the race. Two hours later and because he doesn't want this evening to end just yet, Lando manages to drag Max into a series of matches on Rocket League. He's waiting for the new match they are in to load when he decides to check on his phone and he see a series of texts from Carlos :

As he reads Carlos text, he can almost hear his voice, so warm and familiar, reaches his ears and he's sure that people on the chat can see the rose tint his cheek are taking.

Just as he presses on the sent button for this last text, Lando feels regrets invading him. That was a stupid question, he thinks. In the hectic schedule Carlos has had since he got this new job, he isn't sure there's any more room left to learn how to play a stupid game of football played by small cars. His thoughts run fast in his head as he keeps checking his phone from time to time while still playing with Max and each time, he get more anxious when he sees his texts remains without answer.

Now Carlos is probably trying to think of a nice way to let him down without sounding too rude.

Aware that 10 thousands of people are still watching him play, he tries his best to focus back on the game and to interact with his chat. His heart isn't in it anymore and he's sure he's not fooling anyone with the forced smile he puts on for the webcam. Fortunately, the notification ping of his phone rings again and he hastily check it to see a series of new texts from Carlos :

With this last text, Lando turns off his phone and puts it in his pocket.

He hates Mclaren, hates F1. It's not something he ever thought he would say, but...It's been 2 months Carlos started working for McLaren and moved out of their apartment to be closer to Woking and he loathes it. Sure, whenever he thinks about how great of an achievement Carlos getting selected by Mcalren is, or when he remembers the way he can always hears Carlos smile in his intonation whenever he talks about his job, his heart swells with pride and affection for the spaniard. God knows how much he deserves it.

But he hate everything that comes with the job. Their apartment is now only his, filled with familiar objects reminding him of all the brilliant time they spent cramped up in there. Yet, nowadays he feels like a stranger in his own house.

Every room brings to life so many memories. The living room of course reminds him of all the days they spent talking to one another, practicing together on iRacing the same circuit over and over, streaming and organizing races for their team. The kitchen room reminds him of how Carlos taught him to cook and how to use every utensils there. The balcony is even worse, a simple look at the small table and the two chairs they managed to fit there makes him think of all the time they spent hours eating their breakfast as the sun was rising behind them.

These times between the two of them...It felt like it was everything.

What's left of it now ?

Not much. They still text everyday, call each other just as much but it's not the same, it's...less. Of what ? He doesn't really know, maybe less of everything.

Startled back into reality after scoring an own goal, he lets out a long sigh before speaking.

«Alright, I think I'm gonna end the stream here, I'm too tired to concentrate.» he announces to his chat and Max, feeling that the sudden wave of bitter thoughts seizing his brain would end up making him snap for no reason at his chat eventually, like he has done more and more regularly those last few weeks.

«Oh already ? Okay well, see you tomorrow !» Max voices resonate in his headphones.

«See you !» he says, trying his best to plaster a smile on his face as he waves in direction of the camera before ending his stream and shutting down his computer.

God, he hates how recently his moods have taken control of him. One second he's ecstatic from winning a race and the next he's just...miserable.

After taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a few seconds, he gets up from his chair to take a glass of water at his kitchen sink.

As he gulps down the cold liquid, he tries to cheer himself up. Tomorrow he'll talk to Carlos. He'll listen to him ramble on about his week, to his repeated praises for his performance in the iRacing esport series this season. He'll reassure him that yes, he remembered to eat breakfast and they'll stay on their phone together talking about nothing and everything for hours, like they always have done.

Yeah, tomorrow will be a better day, it'll actually feel like yesterday, when Carlos and he still lived together and Lando thought life couldn't become better than what he had then.


	2. Chapter 2

It now as been three months since Carlos has left their apartment. For Lando, days keep on passing by him, each of them agonizingly slow and resembling the precedents. At least, now that Carlos has started to settle down in his job and doesn't seem submerged anymore in a never ending continuation of meetings and training, they managed to develop a little routine between the two of them. Each day of the week, except on Mondays and Fridays where Carlos is simply too busy, they call each other without fail. And at least once a month, Lando goes on a now familiar journey that begins as he walks to Mile End Station. Without ever shifting his gaze away of the tube floor's ugly pattern, he counts down the stops until he reaches the train station. Once there, he impatiently waits for his train in a quiet corner of the hall and tries to stop the jittery jumps of his legs. One hour later, he steps foot in Woking and looks out for Carlos.

Then, his heart manages to mend itself for as long as their reunion lasts.

It's nice. Routines are good for him, his old therapist – a nice lady called Katherine Hilsay – used to tell him. They help him focus on something else than the noise in his head.

Now, he doesn't even know where Mrs Hilsay works. Last time he walked by the street where her cabinet was, the building was in renovation. Maybe she moved elsewhere, nearer the center of London and in a bigger, fancier place to receive more patients.

It's alright though, he stopped going to her something like 4 years ago. He's learned how to manage on his own now. At least, he used to think so. He's not so sure anymore nowadays.

Besides, he's still got someone to look out for him now : since he moved out, Carlos has taken to heart to bombard him with questions every time they call. Questions like :

 _«Is everything alright back in London ?», «Do you still have enough food in the fridge ?»,_ _« Have you thought to go on a small walk outside this week ?»_ or _«You didn't go to bed too late yesterday, did you ?»._

Coming from anybody else, it would feel patronizing and he's sure all his hairs would rise in irritation at the irruption in his private life. But coming from his old roommate, it feels similar to the nice buzz he gets everytime he enters in a warm bath after being soaked wet from the rain outside. Or even better, it feels like wearing a particularly comfortable and soft sweatshirt.

And because he doesn't want to burst the small bubble of contentment he's in, Lando's answers are always the same, dismissive and vague enough to not alert the overbearing big brother tendencies that Carlos does a very poor job to hide most of the time. Usually, he ends up joking about how wonderful and resting his new life is, now that nobody is waking him up at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast. Then, Carlos retorts always come with an inkling of indignation and just like that, their conversation shifts to another subject.

Developing tactics to masquerade how miserable he's been feeling lately to Carlos isn't something he ever thought he would start doing. The guilt he experiences because of that has an iron-clad hand around his heart.

The truth is, it's difficult to voice the emotions that are wreaking havoc on his mind. There's no storm raging inside him, no intense wave of sadness that hits him and takes him down by surprise. Instead, loneliness seeps through him like icy water trickling down on him, the insidious coldness slowly taking hold of his entire being deep in his bones. Unfortunately, over the last week he has quickly grown accustomed to this constant state of being.

His morning are now quiet, spent watching the way his coffee turns in his cup as he stirs it mindlessly. And everytime, when he finally remembers to drink it, its icy acrid savor leaves a disgusting aftertaste on his tongue.

Then the rest of his day isn't usually much more exciting. He tries to stream on Twitch as regularly as before, but one afternoon out of two, it feels more like a chore than his actual passion.

 _«Don't hesitate to call me if you need to talk to someone, alright ?»_ Carlos had told him multiple time over the last few weeks. It's also the last thing he told him before they definitely stopped being roommate once he had finished to help Carlos moving his stuffs in his new apartment.

He still remembers the endearment he felt then. Carlos voice was dripping with a level of care and concern nobody ever showed him. It wasn't the first nor the last time his friend told him that, but this one time felt special, as if it was important to remember it.

If he had a flair for melodramatics or maybe a little bit of courage, Lando would have abandoned all pretense then. He would have simply said that nothing has been right since he announced he would move out, that he's felt like he's been dumped overnight from a relationship that never actually existed.

But he did none of that and he reassured his friend that everything was alright before saying goodbye to him with a simple hug.

Two hours later, he was back in his flat, feeling as alone as if he didn't just spend a whole day along his bestfriend.

This feeling hasn't really left him since then.

When he's on a particular bad days, he feels sick with the realization that this isn't how it was supposed to be. He should be living his best life ! He's barely in his twenties and doing exactly what he loves, streaming to a enthusiastic and dedicated following, winning e-sport races and being in a tightly knit together sim racing team.

Yet, he's there : vegetating from his bedroom to his living-room and unable to shake himself off from the need to just hold Carlos in his arm and stop feeling so damn miserably _alone_ all the time.

He keeps trying to relativize it : it's alright, things could be worse. Sometime his chat seems to pick up on his foul mood and goes to extra-length to cheer him up. Max and him talk a good hour everyday via discord and it's good fun, they even plan to finally meet each other in real life this summer.

Plus, just this morning, he even got to pet Mrs Russel's cute cat after months of trying to bribe him with treats over the fence of his flat's small garden. His fur was just as thick and soft as he imagined and for a good 5 minutes, he was able to let his fingers tangle themselves in it.

And if for a brief moment then he felt relief floods through him as his entire brain seemed focused on playing with the cat, he's self-aware enough to not try to delude himself into forgetting that it's not enough, not when his mental health, his well-being, whatever it is called, is free falling.

 _«You need to take better good care of yourself, Lando.»_ he imagines Carlos would say to him if he was there.

Actually, if Carlos was there...Well, things would be better.

Instead, the free fall continues and the purring of Mrs Russell's cat is always forgotten when he goes back in his apartment to nothing but the ticking noise of the clock on the wall welcoming him back.

Needless to say, he goes straight to bed that day, without undressing even if the sun still shines brightly outside. He's too tired to pretend he's just doing fine on his own to Carlos. So he send him a quick message pretexting a cold to explain his inability to call him tonight.

After that, he sleeps the rest of day away and the rest of the following day too, only exiting the comforting weight of his blankets to go to the bathroom and eat a few bites of the leftovers he's got in his fridge.

On Sunday afternoon, he wakes up once again, slightly more rested. He frowns when a rich and comforting smell reaches his nose. Thyme and cooked chicken, his nostrils recognize.

Mrs Russel is probably cooking a roast dinner to his son for his weekly visit, he assumes. He doesn't remember having let one of the windows open though, or did he ?

Suddenly, he hears a series of sharp noises, as if somebody took plates directly from his cupboard.

Okay, that's it he's either grown crazy or a burglar is rummaging through his kitchen to...make him chicken soup ?

Deciding neither of those explanations make any sense, he decides to make his way to the kitchen on the tip of his toes, careful to not make a noise. If he was less groggy, he would have had enough wits to arm himself with anything before entering the kitchen.

Instead, he enters the room with only the duvet he draped over himself as a protection. He's met with the sight of a familiar figure, back turned to him, fretting over a large pot in which soup appears to be simmering.

«Carlos ?»

«Hola Lando !» his old roommate exclaims as he turns over to face him, his expression of surprise almost immediately morphing into a wide smile that makes his eyes crinkles.

«Wh- What are you doing here ?»

«You told me you had a cold ! So I'm cooking you a nice chicken soup to boost you up !» he answers before reaching a small herb on the counter «You don't mind if I had some basil in it, don't you ?»

«No, I- I like it...» he answers, still not entirely sure he's not sleeping. He remains immobilized behind Carlos, watching him move around the kitchen as if he never left.

Lando's heart starts to pound rapidly in his chest. Did his his free fall lead him into a time-vortex ? Is Carlos really here or is he just having a fever-dream ?

«Anyway,» Carlos voice get him out of his daze «You come just in time, I think it's ready, can you pass me the two bowls I took out ?»

Once their two bowls are filled with the steaming soup, they settle themselves on the sofa of their living room. Before Carlos can start a conversation between the two of them, Lando's entire body feels lit alive with a surge of affection he cannot refrain. Before he realizes it, he's got Carlos against his chest, engulfed into a strong embrace. God, his old roommate truly is the best, isn't he ?

«Ow, hey careful there, I can't breath !» Carlos chuckles.

Lando's hold remain tight for a few more seconds, until he resigns himself to detach himself from his friend and to stir his soup. In it, he can see bits of carrots, broccoli, chicken and a dozen of other ingredients. It looks just as delicious as it smells.

Ignoring the way his throat feels too tight and how clammy his hands are, he blows on the liquid in his spoon impatiently.

They share a comfortable silence as they eat their bowl of soup and Lando revels in it, in the close proximity, in the domesticity that strangely tingle the palm of his feet.

«Now, tell me the truth...» Carlos says emphatically while Lando gulps down his bowl.

«Hum ?»

«I know what you look like when you have a cold...This isn't it.»

«Now, now Carlos...Are you implying I look like shit ?» he attempts to retort in a joking tone, trying to not let his smile falters.

«No...I'm...» his old roommate stops himself before letting out a small sigh «Lando, you know you can trust me, right ?» he finishes by looking at Lando directly in the eyes, his eyebrows high on his forehead in an obvious display of worries.

Then the fragile facade he's built around him crumbles with this simple look. It seems that lying to Carlos in person is a whole other thing than on the phone. And before he can think where to begin to explain it all, tears start to rapidly pool in his eyes.

«Hey hey, what's wrong ?»

«I'm sorry, I just- I've missed you..I miss us...So much. An-And-» he interrupts himself to rub his hands over his eyes and dry them.

«Shh-shh, let it out.» Carlos cooes as he drapes his arm around Lando's waist and let him rest his head on his shoulder.

«I'm really sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, you make it all the way up there and I cry on your shoulder over nothing.»

«It's not nothing if it makes you cry...» Carlos gently remarks as he starts to rubs his thumb on the base of Lando's neck in a reassuring motion. Then, he starts shifting awkwardly to reach something in his pocket with his other hand. Lando pushes himself away to watch curiously as he takes out a small key from it.

«Moveinwithme ?» Carlos blurts out in one breath after Lando doesn't make a single gesture to take the key.

«Wh-what ?»

«No, wait, that's not how I wanted to say it...I mean, you remember how long it took me to find the right flat to rent, right ? I think I did like nine visits...They were all nice, big enough for me, most of them where in the center of Woking but...» Carlos interrupts himself to rub his face and Lando is truly lost.

Did he misheard Carlos before? Why is he suddenly changing subject after dropping that question on him ?

«Why are you telling me that ?»Lando asks as his voice croaks.

«I-...I couldn't find the right flat. They were all too small, they didn't have a balcony or a second bedroom and...I couldn't see you liking them. And I didn't realize that until you went back to your apartment after you helped me move in everything... All I've been wanting ever since was to give you this key and ask you to comeback home with me. And frankly, I think I've been missing you just as much...So what's the point of us both being miserable like that, uh ?» finishes Carlos in a small sigh, visibly shaken by his own admission .

Scratch accidentally falling into a time-vortex, he's definitely in an alternate universe, because fuck, he wasn't expecting that.

Still shellshocked, Lando takes the key, observes the weight of it in the palm of his hand and the coldness of the metal. He feels almost lightheaded with the way his heart beats painfully fast in his chest.

«So, what do you say ?» his friend asks, as if there could be any universe in which Lando would puts down his proposal.

After a few second of silent observation of the key, he looks at Carlos, ready to give his answer in the form of ten thousand of incoherent heartfelt words to his now _new_ roommate.

But for once, Lando's gaze doesn't fall back on Carlos eyes, earnest and trusting as they always are. Instead, they focus on his lips tightly shut in a worrying expression. And a single thought comes to his mind :

He must get a taste of them.

When he does, his free fall stops and the tips of his toes finally gently comes in contact with the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end ! Please leave a little comment if you liked it <3
> 
> It's very strange because I loooove to read angst. But it's been a few weeks that I've come to the conclusion that I don't really like to write it....And I also realized that I've grown feral about Nico/Lewis, rip me.

**Author's Note:**

> Lando's daily streams are a blessing !!!


End file.
